Mike Tyson Was Right: Life on the DL for an Avid Cyclist

Mike Tyson was right:

A summer on the DL for an avid cyclist

By August Cosentino

The thing about summer, particularly if it’s your favorite season, is that you want everything to be perfect. Whether your sport is golf, running road races, hiking, or cycling, you want to be in shape for it. 

But as boxer Mike Tyson once said, “Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the face.”

Two bike accidents this summer served as painful reminders of how right he was. The first occurred on an organized cycling trip I took in the Pacific Northwest, an epic ride that was to span four states and 550 miles.

I undertook six months of serious physical training cycling beforehand, riding both my bikes through freezing cold weather and climbing thousands of feet daily.  Then in June, life came along and dealt me in a haymaker. Or should I say, an unpaved road on an interstate highway did.

On Day 4 of the trip, while descending on an unpaved stretch of highway which had been recently chip-sealed but still full of gravel, my bicycle hit a “rumble strip”— a 2-inch-high, 2-ft-long washboard of asphalt designed to make a rumbling motion that wakes up drivers who fall asleep at the wheel.  Instead of jolting them, this time the rumble strip, covered by unseen loose gravel, jolted me. My bike suddenly vibrated uncontrollably, and I crashed hard into the road, nearly rolling into the car lane.

A subsequent CT scan showed I broke three ribs, suffered severe lacerations, and was told it would be six weeks before I was able to ride again.

I could’ve called it quits and flown home. Instead, I stuck out the trip with my fellow cyclists and tried not to feel too bitter that other cyclists were having a great time while I was merely watching them from the passenger seat of a van.

Lost Summer, Part 2

Fortunately, it was only a matter of two weeks, not six, before my ribs were healed, and I could sneeze, laugh, and cough again. Most of all, I could ride my bike again. But Lady Luck was having none of that.

One perfect morning in late July, as I was crossing the new bike path on the George Washington Bridge and rounding a sharp turn close to the New Jersey side, seemingly out of nowhere, a guy on a motorized bike came plowing down the bike path and BOOM! headed straight into my path. Double BOOM! I went down hard. Fortunately, on the other side of my body from where the ribs were fractured.

The guy who swerved into my path then took off. Nice, right? Must be a New Yorker.

I ride-hobbled to New Jersey, bleeding, and stunned. The owner of my bike shop took one look at me and said, “You’re not riding home.” I called an Uber and put my bike in the trunk.

The rest of this beautiful day, along with the rest of this pluperfect summer, was spent going to emergency care centers, getting x-rays and CT scans, and eventually going to physical therapy. Five weeks later, as of this writing, I am back on the bike. Slowly, of course.

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So, in retrospect, what would I have done differently? Stayed off the bridge that morning in July? Chosen a trip that wasn’t so ambitious or potentially hazardous? Would I decide that cycling was basically done for me and I should hang up my Lake bike shoes?

Nothing of the sort. Instead, I’ve chalked it up to bad luck—and realized that despite meticulous planning, “things have a way of turning out badly,” as Tennessee Williams once wrote in “The Glass Menagerie.” 

Biggest lesson learned: never underestimate Mike Tyson. When he spoke about getting a random punch to the face, he knew just what he was talking about.